here's to you, Mrs Westergård
by ashihime
Summary: Anna drinks one little too many and Hans is forced to deal with the repercussions of his inebriated bride. Hans/Anna. Oneshot.


Note/s: This oneshot was written for the Hannatines event on tumblr. There's nothing explicit here, just some foul language. Any typos will be rectified at a later time. I would also like to take this opportunity to inform you that the Blue Olaf is still happening, the next chapter should be ready within a week. In the last couple of months last year, I was busy with the comprehension exams for my master's (aka 10 closed-notes, time-pressured, on-the-spot thesis papers with citations and bibliography wtf). It wasn't fun buy yay I passed. Thanks for your understanding!

* * *

Hans had pegged Anna with a number of things: Naive. Ditzy. Clumsy. _Talky_. She was easy to read and mirroring her interests was but a small feat. He played his part well: the storybook prince. One romantic evening was all it took to make her his. It brought him one step closer to the throne.

There was only one problem though—the regent sister.

Queen Elsa was an enigma. Composed. Quiet. Reserved. Basically the opposite of her younger sister. No matter how hard he tried, he could not read her, which pushed him to switch targets. Anna was more manageable. A little nudge here, and she would go on and on about this and that.

She always seemed to have something to say. But when it came to Elsa, she would grow somber, hesitant, and would slowly change the subject.

It was clear she loved her sister but there were obviously some underlying issues with her. Issues Hans wanted to know and use.

So on the night of their wedding, he formulated a plan.

"Oh. It's a fancy bottle and all but I don't really drink…like _ever_." Anna carefully returned the green bottle back into the ice bucket.

Hans let out a slight gasp. "Are you serious? But what about your sister's coronation?"

Anna tucked a strand behind her ear. "Well, I only drink sparkling apple cider and bubbly drinks, never any alcohol." She then giggled. "Nobody ever noticed though."

 _Oh_ but he did notice. Being shrewd meant being perceptive after all.

"Well krumkake," he smiled at her lovingly, taking a seat beside her on the bed, "won't you make an exception for tonight? It is a special day after all."

Anna fluttered her lashes, her fingers trailing the silk embroidery of her peignoir. A rosy blush appeared on her freckled skin, as she looked at him. "Well…I suppose. I could have a glass…this one time."

"Wonderful," Hans beamed, rising to pluck the bottle from its icy nest. He uncorked it and prepared two glasses. Then he returned to the bed with their drinks.

"Oh." Anna's shifted the contents of her glass, "it has a lovely color."

"It's champagne." Hans explained, "and one of the finest in the world. I bought it especially for us."

Hearing this, Anna's gazed at him with a look akin to touched affection. Hans almost snorted at that. _So predictable._

"Cheers," He raised his glass, "To us."

Just as their glasses were about to touch, a knock disturbed them. It was Kai, calling Hans on a matter about one of the docked ships of the Southern Isles. Hans would have cursed if not for present company. He had to be prince charming after all.

"Oh Anna, darling, I'm so sorry!" He appealed to her with wounded eyes. "I'll be back quickly. I won't let this take me away from you for too long." She was easily swayed like the convenient wife she was. He quickly donned his coat and left the room.

* * *

The matter had been on some suspected cargo and smuggled goods, and in the end, proved untrue. A complete waste of time.

"Anna, I'm back." Hans announced as he slipped inside the room. What greeted him took him by complete surprise.

" _Haaaaans_. Is that you?"

"Anna?"

There on the bed was Anna, just as he had left her. Only…

"Well…about time you showed up."

…completely foxed.

"Anna!"

She extended her arms to him, trying to get up. "Give your wifey some sugar." She puckered her lips and made kissy noises.

Hans tilted his head to the side. "Anna you're drunk."

"Nuh-uh!" Anna yelled, staggering to her feet. "I just had…" She scrunched her face, bringing up her fingers to count. "One…another one…two, three…five…seven… Seven-ish drinks… _whoaa_ …" Her balance swayed and Hans quickly rushed in to support her.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" He asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"And why would I haf to?" Anna glared at him. "What, ya some kind of queen?" Her eyes then rounded in shock. "Like Elsa? Are you Elsa? Oh no! _I married my sister!_ " With a sob, she fumbled into his chest, weeping softly. Hans patted her back, looking up to whatever heavenly being was up there watching and thought: _Really?_

The plan was to get Anna to loosen up, making it easier for her to spill the dirt on Elsa. Nowhere in the plan was to get her too drunk.

It was still _his_ damned wedding night after all.

He sighed, hoping that perhaps he could still make this situation work and get the useful information he needed—

"I think Elsa has magical powers." Anna mumbled in his chest.

…

Yeah, forget that.

"Anna, dearest." Hans whispered sweetly, "Darling, listen you need to sober up." But not _too_ sober. "I'll get you a glass of wa"—He stopped when he felt a pair of hands groping his butt. "Anna! W-what are you doing?!"

"Mmm…not thirsty." Anna giggled, now rubbing her cheek against his chest. "Oh yeah…"

Hans squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find his inner calm. "Please remove your hands from my— _posterior_."

Anna looked up to him. "You mean ass?" She squeezed harder. "This ass? It's fucking nice."

He broke free from her molestation and did not bother to hide his outrage. Hans was used to these kinds of talks. He was a navy man after all. But this was coming from a princess—who also happened to be his wife. "Anna, you're a princess! _Princesses_ don't talk or behave in this manner."

"Wanna see my boobs?" Anna asked, who had returned to sit on the bed. She reached behind her for the silk cords of her gown - and failed. She exhaled in exasperation.

"Anna," Hans said, moving closer but from a safe distance. "You're being really inappropriate."

"Isn't that what a wedding night's all about though? Huh?"

"Well…it's um…"

That was a valid point.

"Hey, Hans."

"Yes?" He asked, relieved she did not pursue his answer.

"Can you take your pants off?"

…

He stepped back.

"No."

" _Oh come oooooon Hans!_ " She whined, kicking her feet like a child. "I've been wanting to have me a peek of your pecker since the day we met at the docks. Huh! Docks! Rhymes with—"

Hans cut her there, a blush heating his face. "There will be no peeking of anything!"

"Ah come on Hans," she tossed him a look of badly-attempted seduction, that eyed the length of his body. "Lookit ya, Bulgy McPants. I can see that you've got it hard for me." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Anna," he rolled his eyes, "I'm not even hard."

…

…

Anna's jaw fell open, her eyes wider than they had ever been. "W-w-w-wait, are you telling me…that…" She looked down at his crotch then back at his face. " _That_ _ **thing**_ gets even _bigger_?!" She then slapped her knee. " _Hooo_ mother of mercy! I hit the jackpot!"

"Listen, Anna." He said, hands covering his crotch from her predatory gaze. "Nothing's going to happen tonight."

"What?!" She grabbed a pillow and tossed it around. "But it's our wedding night! Stop being a fucker and be a _fucker!_ "

Hans shook his head. "See that's the thing. I'm not sleeping with you, not like this." He eyed his bride seriously. "You're not even yourself. You're too drunk. You're going to wind up regretting it."

She dropped the pillow and looked as though she were thoughtfully considering his words—until she opened her mouth. "I don't mind not being able to walk for a week if that's what ya mean"—

Hans thew his hands up in surrender. "That's not what I mean at all!"

"I can get naked for you!" Anna offered, clapping her hands in glee. "You do want ta see me naked, don't ya?"

…

…

That was a dangerous question.

"Take your pants off!" She demanded again.

"I will not."

"No fair! You're not fair! Why won't you fucking fuck me you dumb fucker! I want you take me right _now!_ " She fell down the bed, rolling and flailing with the bedcovers. All while kicking up a ruckus.

Hans approached the bed, trying to shush her. "Anna! Please, you're too loud!" The last thing he wanted was to alert the whole palace staff of Anna's inebriated indecency.

"Well 'yer a goddamn louse!" barked Anna, as she sat back up again. She jabbed a finger at him. "At least give me a hand! And I mean that literally, your fingers look just as thick as your"—

"Enough!" That was the last straw. Screw prince charming. "You spoiled little bitch." He hissed, glaring down at her. He then kept going, preventing her from yapping again. "Stop being a whiny little slut. Keep your _fucking_ mouth shout before the whole castle—including your sister—hear what a depraved little whore you are. You hear me?" He stooped down until they were at eye level. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

…

…

 _God_. It felt great getting that out of his system. But his satisfaction was short-lived when he saw Anna's stunned expression, the disbelief and shock evident in her wide eyes.

Fuck, he had gone too far.

"Oh Anna…" He knelt down, grabbing her hands in his and pleading, "Please. I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me, princess. I didn't mean to"—

She did not say anything, did not even bother freeing her hands from his grasp. Hans continued begging for forgiveness. He had screwed up big time.

Finally, Anna seemed to recover, looking at Hans in a strange new light.

"Hans…" She muttered.

"Yes, Anna? My princess?"

He was going to do everything in his power to fix this. He had to show Anna that he was still her fairytale prince. The charming gentleman and not the man she had briefly glimpsed. He was going to—

"I'm so wet right now."

…

…

* * *

Hans had given up eventually. Anna was just too determined, too stubborn. And surprisingly _strong_ …she had easily overwhelmed him in bed. Not that he was complaining. When he woke up the next morning, he was sore all over. Something that had never happened to him before (aside from other things that night). He was kneading a knot in his shoulder when Anna began to stir.

"Hey," she gazed abashedly from under the covers, looking sweet and angelic and not the perverted old drunk she had been last night. "I don't really remember a lot from when you came back. But I did remember…stuff." She giggled shyly. "Romantic lovemaking stuff…"

Visions of obscene acts flashed before Hans' eyes, none of them romantic in the least. But he was not about to ruin the alcohol-tinted memory she had of their night, so he smiled his princely smile and kissed her forehead.

"It was magical, wasn't it krumkake?"

"It was. It was _wow_. The champagne really helped me relax, you know."

"…It certainly did." He wasn't going to comment any further than that.

Later, while Anna was changing behind the dressing screen, Hans was rethinking his strategy—sans alcohol—when he chanced upon a discovery. A discovery that made him question his confidence of everything he knew about Anna.

There had been a mix-up.

The champagne was a bottle of sparkling apple cider.


End file.
